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Remember! Italics = Punk's thoughts

Chapter 3: Trying Not To Love You

Punk walked into the arena, dragging his bag behind him. He wasn't too far in before he needed to take a seat. The bag had some unusual things in it tonight but they were special items. And by special, he meant to whip his new team into shape…literally. He hadn't slept very much in the past week nor did he use his phone as often as he did. Barrett had been calling and texting him constantly, quite out of his mind. One minute he was pissed, the next he was trying to seduce Punk. Luckily his ship had sailed and he was Smackdown's problem now. And even if he did show up on Raw, he had a knee ready to make the Brit sleep with the fishes.

However, his sleeping has suffered from his own psychosis. He wasn't an insomniac. At least, he didn't think so. The new Nexus were like a pack of overgrown children. They lacked discipline. They tried during the week to go out to eat together. It had been a nightmare. Punk had stayed up for hours throwing virtual crumpled paper into a waste basket on his iPhone. He would have done it in real life but there never seemed to be enough paper in his hotel rooms.

He didn't dream often but when he did, he dreamt of John. It had almost become habit to awaken, jerk off / take a cold shower and then proceed to scream into a pillow. The Nexus were helping but not as fast as he had hoped. He hadn't seen John yet tonight but supposedly he was planning to address the WWE Universe. This spelled trouble for the Nexus and himself. But inside, Punk knew he'd be happy to see John's face. He had become somewhat of a stalker, following John's tweets on Twitter under a fake account.

It was starting to concern him how much of an inner schoolgirl obsession he had. His not giving a shit anymore was failing and fast. But not after tonight. He had a lot in store for his team. He took his seat in the Nexus locker room. Not surprisingly, he was the first one there. The rookies seem to have a thing for being late. That or they got dragged on a snack run with Husky and Justin, who ate a lot for his size. But Punk valued the silence while it lasted. He knew these men were loud. They were powerful. And they were tough, except for Heath who was a bit of a crybaby.

"Time to whip these men into shape."

Punk got down to business and called each of his team members. As predicted, Husky was with Gabriel and Heath on a snack run. Otunga had just finished a work out in the gym and Mike was just getting out of his car. Punk looked at the clock. It read 6:04pm. He had actually arrived early. What was wrong with him? It didn't matter. Tonight was about beginnings. A new Nexus. A new leader. A new CM Punk.

Punk sat alone, thinking about the actions he had taken tonight. The night was half over and still no sign of John. Punk felt a sense of loathing building up in his system. Not just for the lack of John's presence, but at himself as well. Sitting in his typical Indian style, he looked around at the empty space. He must be in some sort of storage room where the WWE kept various equipment and props they traveled with but rarely used. Most likely brought them around in case of a backstage fight or promo they were attempting to make wittier.

The low light bouncing off of something caught his eye. He stood up and approached it, temporarily blinding himself. When Punk re-took his seating in front of the object, he finally was able to decipher its identity. A mirror.

"What's this doing here? I'm pretty sure Rhodes dropped the whole 'dashing' thing when Mysterio broke his face..."

He stayed still, staring into the eyes of the man in the mirror. It was a unique feeling, to look into one's eyes and see the person you had become. Punk just stared. This was who he was now.

He wasn't some young, blonde kid back in IWA. That boy who ran around with Colt Cabana and caused all kinds of mischief. Hell, they even raffled off themselves to give a woman a lapdance. This wasn't the man who ran out of an ROH event with the crowd chanting "fuck the snow," almost slipped on ice, and made snow angels in the freezing weather in his trunks. This wasn't ECW Punk. This wasn't the Straightedge Savior. This was CM Punk, leader of the new Nexus.

"I wonder where that blonde boy went..."

Punk looked away from the mirror. Searching his soul was painful. Although he claimed to be all together and knew who he was, at times like these he was not sure. Was he trying to convince the world...or was he trying to convince himself? He was the best wrestler in the world. But still, he felt the need to go deeper. He glanced back towards the reflective surface, looking once again into his own eyes.

"So Phillip...this is who you are now," he muttered, no longer talking inside his head. "You are a leader. You demand respect. Loyalty...and mother fucker, I sound like John!"

If the word 'hustle' had passed his lips he most likely would have put his fist through the mirror. But the fact of the matter was that it was true. Taking a deep breath, he reflected on what he had done to his new underlings.

First, Michael McGillicutty was made to be on the receiving end of a Nexus beat down. The man had taken it without much of a fight, although a little confused at first but David Otunga was quick to break the delay. Then came Harris. He was whipped with a leather strap by the members of the group. That was probably the worst for Punk. With every crack of that leather, Punk felt some frustrations leave his body. Physically beating down this man as he screamed seemed to be the only remedy for his aching heart. Of course none of his men knew that and they never would. He sent David Otunga to face the Big Show as he watched from a far. Like sending a sheep to a slaughter. He had given Heath and Justin the kendo sticks he had brought and ordered them to fight each other. They refused. Punk told them to hit him. They didn't. Those two were out. The Nexus had gone from six men to four. Better than Punk had expected. There may be hope for these rookies after all.

Punk looked at his reflection once more. For a moment he felt he was looking past his physical gaze and into his inner soul's expression. Pity.

"Stop it..." Punk muttered, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Even though Punk was talking to himself, it felt like he was looking into the eyes of an extremely different person. And this person was able to break his walls down like a house of cards. This person knew who he truly was. His strengths...and his weaknesses.

"Stop fucking looking at me like that! Who are you to judge me? This is who I am. No, who I need to be. I'm tired of being overlooked. I worked for too long to get here. I'm not about let some stupid, fucking emotions ruin everything. It doesn't matter how much I love John because he will never be mine and that's how shit plays out. I can't be with anyone! It just doesn't work."

Breathing heavily, he narrowed his eyes at his reflection. Flashes of all of the pain he had caused in one night to the Nexus flashed before his eyes. Their faces in agony. And for what? To become the strongest stable in the WWE. And then he saw John's unconscious face and he swore he saw Jeff Hardy in the mirror.

"You're too unstable to handle yourself."
"SHUT UP!"

Punk grabbed a nearby hammer and threw it at the mirror, the glass shattering instantly. The shatter echoed throughout the room, eventually becoming silent once more. Punk looked down at the pool of reflective shards. This was going to be fun to clean up. Or he could just leave and pretend he didn't know a thing. His breathing slightly steadied but still kept a faster pace than usual. He was starting to think he needed serious help. But then again, who in this business didn't? All he knew was he needed to leave this room before anyone discovered him and reported him to Mr. McMahon. Punk got up slowly and walked to the door. With one final glance over his shoulder at the destruction he muttered, "Sometimes I think Orton's voices got nothing on mine."

The crowd was a mix of shock, fear, and the few sarcastic assholes. Punk stood at the top of the titantron, looking at the floor below him. If anything went wrong, he was dead. John Cena had been announced to address the WWE Universe but Punk had interrupted the introduction. Tonight had been one of the most mentally tormenting nights Punk had ever experienced. He had gained three followers and had broken two other men in the process. He knew who was strong and who was weak. But now, it was time for his initiation and it was time to go big or go home. He lifted the microphone to his lips and began to speak.

"My initiation will be the ultimate sacrifice."

The heartless people in the audience were chanting for him to jump. Those people were more messed up in than Punk. Punk swallowed a bit and glanced down. He was easily fifty feet in the air. Just one wrong step is all it would take to end his life. But he had confidence. Nothing was going to go wrong. That didn't mean he couldn't tease the crowd a little more.

"So should I dive off this tron? Should I break every bone in my body? Should I rupture every muscle?"

Half gasped. Half cheered.

"What a sad world we live in..."

The moment of truth had arrived. He opened his arms and closed his eyes. Everything was dark and silent. There was no WWE universe. There was no tron. Punk just slowly counted to ten. His eyes cracked open and it all came flooding back. He couldn't help but burst out into loud, almost obnoxious laughter.

"How gullible are all of you?" He continued to laugh while lifting his shirt. "I'm wearing a harness!" The audience booed at the sight of the yellow safety device. He had single handedly initiated the entire WWE universe in a matter of seconds.

"Score 1 for the best in the world!"

He couldn't believe that people actually thought he would do something like that without protection. Punk was safer up there than any of the audience in their seats.

"What kind of idiot jumps off the tron?"
"The CEO's son for one..."

Punk was helped down to level ground with the assistance of the crew. The Nexus was there waiting for him. "You've got some balls, dude." Otunga commented. Punk smirked at him. "It was nothing." He replied, giving Husky a high five. They walked towards the ring, surrounded by more sarcastic remarks. Punk found it very entertaining. "There has never been a thought in my mind to jump off the tron. I don't need your approval." No matter what he said, people found it a need to mock him with the one name he was trying to knock out of his head.

"Cena! Cena! Cena!"

Punk sighed and looked around. The world really knew how to push his buttons. The last thing he wanted was for John to come out here and confront him. Still, the crowd chanted his name. Time to play the asshole once more.

"Cena? John Cena? John Cena is no longer here. I got rid of him, ladies and gentlemen."

And then a voice echoed through the arena that cut Punk off like no other.

"But I'm right here. I'm right over here."

Punk's head whipped towards the entrance faster than a dog who heard his food box being shook. There was John. Well, in a way. This explained why Punk hadn't seen him all night. He wasn't here. He was on the titantron...via satellite.

"That seems to be the growing trend. Become the face of the company and more of your addresses come via satellite..."

"I'm on that big screen you almost jumped off of."

Punk felt a bit embarrassed by that, although he wasn't sure why. The next thing Punk knew, John was calling him a bunch of words to describe his personality.

"You're gutless. Tasteless. Worthless. Spineless. Classless."

"Did he swallow a thesaurus or something?"

"Your cronies are pants less."

Punk looked at his men that were all looking down at their trunks as the WAW universe laughed. John always had a knack for making funny comments; some were often out of left field but nonetheless. John continued to pick Punk apart but he was too busy just looking at John's face. He knew this emotional rehab of his was going bad. He missed seeing John's face. He tuned back in when he heard John mention something about initiation.

"One member who I have not been able to initiate. That's you, CM Sucks."

"You have no idea…"

Punk stood there and looked at the screen. Did John just challenge him to a match? Did he really think that just because he beat Barrett's Nexus meant he could beat his? Even more, cause the best in the world to back down?

"I'm not afraid of you John."

"Prove it. Next week, CM sucks faces John Cena in a match."

"This could be either very good or very bad…"

John smirked at Punk. Punk couldn't help but smile as John continued on, talking about a match between the two of them next week. Whatever forces existed in the universe were testing him but if he wanted to make a paycheck, his choice was obvious.

"Next week?"

"Yes, you and me in a match."

Punk breathed deeply, before he spoke what his mind was going crazy to say.

"I accept."

"Good. I was hoping you would."

The audience went nuts and inside Punk was too. It had been a long time since he actually had been in the ring with John. John seemed pleased with Punk's answer. It almost made Punk wonder why. Was there some motive behind this? John spoke only once more before Punk was completely lost in the Bostonian's eyes.

"If you provoke me…I am the most animalistic, brutal, violent, physical man on the planet. You get dealt with."

Punk looked so lost in thought at that moment. He knew he should be portraying someone of confidence and leadership but he couldn't. His mind was thinking about John. One week from that night, he would face John one on one. Just the two of them.

"I must really hate myself."

~Thank you SO much for the reviews! The plot thickens! And for a fun fact, that lapdance thing was true! Just look here: .com/watch?v=hQPEpgObLLs. Reviews please. ENJOY!~